


mercy

by kurooos



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Crying, Humiliation, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, No Lube, Public Humiliation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Violence, sadistic Lotor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:57:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurooos/pseuds/kurooos
Summary: It's no secret that Lance is stubborn and hardheaded, prideful.When the paladins get captured by Prince Lotor, that pride gets Lance in trouble.It's just unfortunate that said trouble is none other than the galra's prized Champion.





	mercy

Lance had limits to how much shit he could take in one day. There were hard set borders that no one should cross, not any purple pretty alien, nor Lance.

Said purple pretty alien had captured all of the paladins, only the princess narrowly escaping. It was thanks to Shiro’s strong luck and pushy attitude. He had tricked Allura into standing just far enough so that Coran could grab her and pull her to safety on the castle.

The two alteans barely missed the glowing pink net that was thrown around their group, snatching the paladin’s feet out from under them before delivering shocks powerful enough to run through the protective armor. With heavy gloves, sentries detained the disoriented five and pulled them up, securing strong electromagnetic handcuffs behind their backs.

They were quickly marched deeper into the ship before coming to a stop in the command helm. They had an audience with the galra prince himself, Lotor. The slimy bastard had brought together the entire crew, or at least all the important soldiers, to watch. Sneers whispered across the room, growing loud until Lotor’s raised hand stopped them.

The prince leaned off to the side, sitting on the throne. Lance used the word _lounging_.

“Kneel.” He’d commanded. It rung out in the silent room. No one moved. Not one of them kneeled.

Lotor’s eyes narrowed and the soldier behind them suddenly nudged a plasma blaster against Shiro’s head, yelling ‘now!’.  Shiro glanced at the others down their line before slowly getting to his knees, knowing better than to challenge those who clearly had the upper hand.

With Shiro down, the rest of them followed suit, not wanting to risk injury.

All but Lance.

He was tired of being pushed around by these stupid aliens, thinking they were all the shit. And he was tired of them pushing his friends around, threatening them.

All eyes turned to Lance as he stood his ground, stayed up on two feet and glared defiantly at Lotor.

“Did you not hear me, paladin?”

“Oh I heard you,” Lance snapped, trying to work the handcuffs behind his back off his wrists. They didn’t budge. Lance was looking for a fight, wanting that smarmy, high class prince to come down here and get in his face. Lance would give him something to be pissy about. A black eye, no, Lance could probably get Lotor’s nose to crunch under the right force.

Shiro, closest to Lance right now, immediately shot him a glare, one that said, _get the hell on your knees_.

Sadly though, if Lance was to get to his knees, it wouldn’t be to get to work on his favorite activity. And what was the worth of getting down like that if Shiro wasn’t involved.

Lotor stood up from the throne and Lance turned his chin up, prideful that he got the prince of the galra empire to stand up off his lazy ass.

“Lance, do what he says you fucking idiot,” Keith hissed, staring at the blue paladin.

Lance paid him no attention, instead glaring at the prince head on; Even when he came close and forced Lance to look up at him, Lotor standing a head taller.  

Lotor chuckled, sounding fond or in disbelief of how stupid Lance was.

“Are you nothing but brave? Lance, was it? Do you know what typically comes with bravery?” Lotor suddenly snatched Lance’s chin, holding him tightly as he stepped even closer. Every time Lance inhaled his chest brushed against Lotor.

His neck ached with such an incline, but his stubbornness didn’t allow him to pull away or step back. His hands clenched behind his back, unable to swing free of the cuffs.

“An inability to sense danger.” Lotor said, teeth clenched together, obviously bothered that Lance was still glaring straight up at him. That Lance wasn't scared of him.

Lotor’s hands moved quickly, one shoving under his arm and hooking. His other arm… It didn’t even register to Lance what was happening before pain bloomed in his stomach.

Lance briefly wondered if he’d been stabbed.

His legs buckled from under him, now only being supported by dangling from Lotor’s arm. The prince barely even straining to keep Lance off the floor.

Lance dry heaved first, body throbbing from the pain, and then he choked, gasping for air. His face pressed unknowingly on Lotor’s side, eyes unfocused on the floor.

The prince had one hell of a punch if it wrought that kind of pain from the other side of hard armor and Lance wasn’t too keen on sitting still and just _taking_ it.

He tried to pivot on the one foot he still had on the floor, pushing all of his weight into pulling himself up and then dealing a blow of some kind.

But his feet swept out from under him, the ceiling swirled for a half second, and Lance’s chest hit the floor.

Fingers wrenched his hair back, pulling him up so he wouldn't smash his chin into the floor. Lance cried out, using precious air to whine. But he thought it was rather justified, his whole body hurt and Lance’s brain still hadn't quite caught up and figured out _why_.

“Stop! You’ll kill him!”

Shiro’s voice rang out in the silence, so close. Lance turned his attention and caught a closeup of black and white armor, Shiro’s hip, the bend of his knee.

Lance had never seen Shiro look scared before, yet he could tell this was something newer, to both of them. Perhaps it was how close they were…

Lotor shifted from his spot, kneeling over Lance’s back and pulling his arm back tightly. In another moment his cheek was being shoved into the floor and his view on Shiro disappeared.

“Do you know how to properly discipline your soldiers, Champion? Do you not know how to put this kind of ego to rest?”

Lotor now asked Shiro, knowing that he was their leader of Voltron. How could he not with Zarkon lusting after the black lion with every waking breath.

“Don’t call me that. And they’re not just soldiers to use. They learn from their own mistakes.”

“You do not punish your fellow paladins, then? Perhaps this is why your team is so weakly put together. You do not know how to control them. To use them to their fullest.”

“They are not _pawns_.”

Lotor laughed for a moment, taking in their argument before pulling Lance’s arm sharply; a dull pop echoed in the room before Lance _screamed_.

“Is this frailty not an example of how disposable and weak he is?” Lotor sneered, placing a hand on Lance’s dislocated shoulder and leaning pressure on it.

Lance screamed again, voice breaking when tears began to fall.

Shiro had to grit his teeth, to stop from getting up and doing something stupid. Yet his galra arm glowed bright, hot against Shiro’s back.

When it burned through the electromag cuffs, hundreds of guns came into view, sending various charged energies into the room, clicks making Shiro pause in his tracks.

Despite the danger, Lotor’s eyes had lit up excitedly. He chuckled before gesturing down at Lance, finally taking his hands away from him. Lance all but melted against the floor, panting hard behind grit teeth.

“I understand that as a leader you must care for your paladins, but this? Is he more to you than just a teammate?”

The wicked grin Lotor had was nothing but unsettling and Shiro could only see the prince thinking, planning how to use this knowledge. Shiro had neither confirmed nor denied it but it was so obvious, neither of the two made it subtle. There had been no need to hide their relationship…

Lotor laughed, head tossed back as he found something among this situation to be hilarious. Shiro just watched his perfect opportunity slip away, arm burning with the want to slide right into the neck bared in front of him. It would end everything. _Everything_.

But with the dozen guns aimed at both him and the rest of the team, Shiro just couldn’t risk a suicidal take like that.

“Very well.” Lotor said, finally coming to an agreement with some unheard decision. He turned his head, addressing the galra watching.

“Hold the rest of the prisoners. They can watch how far disobedience gets them.”

Commanders closed in on them, quickly obeying orders as they took the remaining three and pulled them to the sidelines, held among the enemy to watch the empty floor.

Just Shiro, Lance, and Lotor were left, not at all moved from their spot.

Lotor flicked a hand at Shiro, “Stand then.”

The black paladin looked at Lance with worry, even though he’d still be right there, he would no longer be close enough. With no other option to take, Shiro stood, fists closed tightly at his sides, galra arm still glowing with energy.

No care or gentle touch was spared when Lotor took both hands around Lance’s shoulder and set it, pushing the numb limb back into socket and sending Lance writhing to try and get away, voice hoarse as he screamed once more.

Shiro had to stare hard at an opposite wall, jaw tight, so as to not put all of his attention on Lance. The game finally clicked in Shiro’s head, and he understood what all of this was for.

Lotor brought Lance up to his feet, handling him roughly with his injured side to hear a few more whimpers before he let the blue paladin go.

He stood there and breathed heavy, disoriented from the pain enough to rest his forehead on Shiro’s breastplate.

“Let’s see how prideful you _really_ are, paladin.” Lotor hissed, low into Lance’s ear, soft enough that only they three could hear it.

The prince then stepped away and Shiro was left with both hands free. He was unsure what to do with them, but with a short break, he took one to rest on Lance’s shoulder, that had to be a safe spot, yes? If someone were to watch, would they see this as caring?

“Lance, stand up. Can you tell me if you’re okay?”

Brown hair had fallen into his face, covering damp eyes, but Shiro still caught the quiver in Lance’s bottom lip.

He felt everything in him soften, hating to see his boyfriend cry. Before he could touch Lance more, Lotor sighed.

“How touching. But if you really care for each other you’ll value discipline, especially when it could cost someone’s life. Or three.”

No one said anything, already understanding the threat. The silence dragged on before Lotor took his seat on the throne.

“Now. Let’s see how to truly teach obedience.”

Shiro watched the room carefully, trying to put meaning to the prince’s words. The handcuffs keeping Lance's hands behind his back suddenly beeped, falling to the floor with a sharp metallic ring. Shiro flinched with the noise, the ringing in his head was growing louder, louder, louder, until whispers accompanied it.

Shiro’s arm immediately deactivated as he brought both hands up to his head. He winced at the pain but could no longer hear himself, couldn't hear Lance worriedly calling his name or coming closer to him.

As he blinked his eyes, his vision grew dark and fuzzy, like a scratched, orange lens was filling–

A loud noise barely registered above the ringing, the whispers sounding too much of that witch. Shiro shook his head, told her to shut up, to stop talking.

And then it all stopped. Clear as rain, the ringing stopped, the whispers stopped. But now Shiro felt as if he were some outsider looking in. Stuck inside his head.

He could see Lance, could hear him, but that was it. Nothing else registered to Shiro.

But so much was happening even if Shiro wasn’t aware, and Lance was terrified of it.

The golden yellow that swallowed all color in Shiro’s eyes made him flinch back. Even as Shiro stood there, motionless, arm faintly glowing, Lance felt nothing but apprehension. Shiro was a gun ready to go off, and he was caught right in his crosshairs.

Shiro finally looked up, shoulders relaxed back, head held demandingly.

“Kneel.” He said, deep voice watery and not his own. It sounded two toned, as if two people were speaking. Lance shook his head and stepped back.

“Shiro this isn't you. Whatever is happening, fight it.”

“Did you not hear me, Lance?” When Shiro next blinked, that glowing galra haze disappeared, confusing him more, but it didn’t stop Lance from taking a step back when Shiro came forward.

“No.” Lance felt his chest swell bigger, ready to put in a fighting word against Shiro, he’d done it before, why not now?

“I am not going to be kneeling for anyone, not for you, and definitely not for some bastard prince.”

Lance spat the last part, looking right at the galra on the throne. He would have flipped the prince off if he knew it would be understood.

Lotor shook his head, feeling his nerves rise with his anger. This would stop now. He was growing tired of the resistance.

Shiro grabbed Lance, yanked him forward by his injured arm and brought him close so that he couldn't run away. Lance used his free hand to hold Shiro’s wrist, trying to squeeze hard enough that he would let go. Of course, Shiro's grip was too strong, hard enough that Lance could feel bruises starting. His chest began to ache from the radiating sensations in his shoulder. His legs felt weak and a pressure headache was building behind his temples.

“Get down on your knees, Lance.” Shiro growled. Lance considered it briefly, and then thought, absolutely fucking not.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wrenching his free hand back now and then putting his entire body into his punch.

It got the job done, Shiro’s hold on him gone when he stumbled back. Blood leaked from his fingers held over his mouth and nose.

Lance squeaked out another apology when Shiro pinned him with a rageful look. His heart jumped in his chest in excitement, an inappropriately timed feeling. But hey, he just landed a solid hit on Shiro, not many had that bragging right.

Shiro took his bloodied hand away, flicking the blood from his fingers with a hard shake of his hand.

The galra around them were cheering now, shouting for the champion to take one more victory. Lance’s chest felt like a lead box when he found Lotor among them, silent, but his eyes held nothing but bloodlust.

Shiro turned his head, eyes always on Lance, and spat blood from his mouth. His body was coiled, ready for a fight, a predator ready to attack. Lance supposed Shiro was waiting for Lance to make a move again to take the offensive, but with no movement, Shiro took up the chance.

He charged at Lance with every intention of hurting, of dealing punches hard enough to drive into someone’s skull. His metal arm would have no issue with it, memories from his time in the ring told him that with a hard enough punch, nothing could stand up to his enhancements.

Lance stayed on the defensive, ducking and weaving away from every kick and swing thrown at him. He went from startled to angry, using that change to start trying to get a hit in of his own.

That risk only got him closer to Shiro, the Champion who analyzed every inch of movement. Lance didn’t stand a chance.

Shiro’s boot to his chest had him on the floor in seconds, coughing and gasping for air that just wouldn’t come to him. He curled in on himself to protect his face and front from any blows, prepared for Shiro to start tearing into him.

But nothing happened, the roar of the crowd stayed just as excited and energized as before, and still Lance felt frozen in time.

It must have been only seconds before a hand worked into Lance’s space, delicate and graceful fingers taking his chin and turning his face up. He squeezed his eyes shut, ready for the finishing blow.

“Ah, this is a much better look for you, paladin.”

Lotor’s thumb pressed into Lance’s split lip, blood gushed against his skin and over Lance’s teeth.

“Will you finally listen to me? Hopefully that pride of yours can let you know when to quit?”

Lance angrily slapped Lotor’s hand away, sitting himself up and spitting at him.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Lotor just smiled at him, eyes full of pity.

“Fine.” He turned his eyes to Shiro, standing nearby and watching the two, blood smeared on his chin from him wiping at it.

“Come, teach your friend here what it means when you cannot follow orders.”

Lotor stayed by the two, knelt down close on one knee.

Lance would have made a move to attack him were it not for Shiro behind him. Experienced hands began to take his armor from his hips, taking each leg piece away and tossing them to the side.

From the distance, Lance could hear Keith and the others shouting, trying to figure out what was happening. _What the hell was Shiro doing_.

Lance tried to roll over so he could kick, but Shiro’s hand pressed his shoulder into the ground, grinding into the sore muscle hard enough that Lance pushed his forehead into the floor and groaned out a curse. He wasn’t going to give Lotor the satisfaction of hearing him scream again, no matter how terribly he wanted to.

“Surely you aren't so prideful to hide your true feelings? Will you not scream to me how your lover is hurting you?”

Lotor’s grip was now in Lance’s hair, pulling him up from the floor. He couldn’t go far, not with Shiro still holding him down.

The heat from Shiro’s galra arm was close, Lance unable to see where it was or what he was doing, but as the black fabric of his suit tore, shredding like paper with Shiro’s pull, there wasn’t a need to see.

“You’re sick.” Lance hissed, starting to lose his heat as he worried about Shiro behind him.

“You two have done this before, yes? The Champion’s mind is so easy to pick through.”

Lance was about to spit back an answer, to start cursing Lotor with everything he had but it died off as he felt the wet head of Shiro’s cock. He pushed his legs closed, tightly in hopes that it would deter Shiro. Lance tried to move forward to get away, but Shiro was a heavy force behind and above him, and Lotor made sure Lance couldn’t get anywhere forward.

His chin pressed hard into Lotor’s waiting hand, eyes frantically finding the prince’s, cruel and waiting. He was expecting something.

“Don’t. Don’t do this.”

One of Lotor’s eyebrows raised, a question or ignorance, Lance didn’t know. He couldn’t care at this point. There was no way Shiro could get _inside_ –

Blunt pressure relentlessly pushed on Lance, Shiro trying to force his way in. Lance knew Lotor was trying to get any noise he could, and so Lance clenched his jaw tightly and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing deeply.

He couldn’t fit. He couldn’t get in without lube. There was no possible way.

As Shiro kept pushing, Lance kept trying to move, pull his hips in a different direction to change the angle. But it all stumbled to a stop as Shiro pushed in. Pain shot up Lance’s back white hot, body immediately relaxing to try and accommodate.

Shiro took the opportunity and his hips snapped forward, hard and uncaring as Lance choked on a scream.

He could feel himself tearing, hot blood running down his thighs helping to slick Shiro’s cock as it drove in and out of him. His tears were just as hot, leaking down over his cheeks and over Lotor’s palm.

“Stop,” he tried, having to speak around every painful whine and moan that was fucked out of him. Lance felt like he was about to throw up, bile rising to the back of his throat with the pain. He had to keep his mouth closed, his lips pursed tight and then caught between his teeth, to stop his breakfast from coming back.

“Please. Please,  _stop_.”

Lance used his free arm to reach back and try and grab Shiro, fingers barely able to push against Shiro’s hip before he was fucking back inside of him. Lance choked on a painful cry, changing his tactics to instead push against Shiro’s hip, then his lower stomach in hopes it would create a buffer.

“It’s necessary for a little pain to get the lesson to stick.” Lotor whispered cruelly. He reached over Lance’s shoulder and took Shiro’s flesh and blood hand, taking it away from Lance’s hip and bringing it under his chin.

Their weight and leverage shifted, Lance now having to take all his weight up on his knees, leaning heavy on his chest when Shiro leaned heavily over his lower back.

Lance felt a sob bubble up in his throat when Shiro’s fingers pushed past his lips. It was likely something Lotor had seen Shiro do in a memory, one where Lance and Shiro had been playing, just touching each other and feeling their bodies out. Fucking slow and sweet without any end in sight.

It was the opposite of what they were doing now. It was raw and thoughtless and Lance would like to think neither of them wanted this.

It hurt more to know that Hunk and Pidge and Keith were watching, seeing them like this. The other paladins knew that Shiro and Lance were in a relationship, one that brought out the softer sides of each other, the sides that made Pidge make gagging noises and tell them to pay up to the PDA jar. That normality, the domesticity the team worked so hard to create with each other, would be shattered after this.

Lance could feel everything in him crumble, with each sharp thrust, every bit of hot pain in his ass and up his spine, every breathless gasp and tiny moan. It was all laid bare for Lotor to see, for Lance to finally turn his eyes down and cry and give in.

Lotor, with all of his sadistic tendencies, was truly a monster. His mood brightened as Lance was beaten down, hard and without any mercy. Lance had underestimated the prince as some spoiled brat that enjoyed to see suffering. Now it was clear that Lotor didn’t just want the universe, he wanted any being that opposed him crushed into the dirt and begging him for mercy. And he wanted to watch that. Lance knew that it was possible Lotor would get that, for all he cared, he already did.

Shiro’s hand finally moved, wet fingers pulled from his mouth and then coming around his throat. Lotor had to move his hands away, but Shiro’s grip held Lance’s head up anyway.

“That’s it, there you go.” Lotor moved to his knees in front of Lance, bloody thumb running over Lance’s wet cheek. Lance realized that the prince wasn’t talking to him.

Shiro behind him went stiff, barely making a noise when he came. Lance felt every throb of his release and the sensation made Lance immediately lurch. The cum inside of him stung as it was pushed against fissures, ground deep into him.

Lance thought that was it, that it was finally over and he could just fall asleep. He wanted nothing more than to get away from this place. But Lotor had other plans, much more with Shiro.

Shiro’s hips kept rolling into Lance’s, pulling tortured noises from Lance’s lips. Lips that were now being parted carefully by clawed fingertips. Lotor’s.

“Let’s make sure you’ve really learned, paladin.”


End file.
